


Navy Blue isn't a Color

by thenerdyindividual



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Banter, Clothes, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Hurt feelings, Kissing, M/M, Masks, Nipple Play, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23274922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenerdyindividual/pseuds/thenerdyindividual
Summary: Yennefer and Jaskier get invitations to attend the masquerade wedding of a royal. Unfortunately, Jaskier slept with the bride several years before, and he is worried about her intentions for hiring him as an entertainer. He brings Geralt for protection, but Geralt doesn't quite grasp the concept on anonymity. A joke goes too far, and Geralt's feelings are hurt. Thankfully Jaskier knows how to make it up to him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 7
Kudos: 121





	Navy Blue isn't a Color

Jaskier adjust the masks around his eyes, and straightens his doublet. Then he turns, and presents himself to Yennefer. 

“So what do you think?” he asks. 

“Would a mocking reply totally crush you?” Yennefer asks. 

“Probably.”

Yen cocks her head to the side, contemplating him carefully, “You look passable. It helps that no one can see your face behind that mask.”

Jaskier tilts his chin proudly, “You just like the idea of anonymous sex.”

Yen just smiles at him in reply. 

“Geralt? How goes it for you?” Jaskier calls across the sitting room. Another screen had been set up for Geralt to try on the clothes Yen had picked out for him. Though why he needed a screen when both people in the room had seen his dick on multiple occasions, Jaskier will never know. 

“I’m not wearing any of this.” Geralt grumbles. 

Yen rolls her eyes, and sighs. Geralt is as stubborn as mule when he’s being cooperative. She should’ve known better than try to convince him to dress up for this party, but really, the whole point of a masquerade is to be anonymous. 

“Just come out, and let us see.” 

Geralt emerges from behind the screen. His clothes aren’t unlike the ones Jaskier forced him into for Pavetta’s wedding feast. But instead of grey, varying shades of navy blue. 

“You look nice.” Jaskier says

“Try it with the mask.” Yen instructs. 

“No.”

“Geralt I swear to the gods, if you don’t try it with the mask I will turn you into an eel.” Yen takes a long sip of her mead. 

With much grumbling, Geralt holds the mask up to his eyes. It’s a darker shade to match the trim on his jacket, and there’s a touch of gold embroidery at the edges that reflect the gold of Geralt’s eyes. It’s a breathtaking image, but does very little to hide his identity what with the white hair and all. 

“I’m not wearing this.” Geralt repeats

“And why not?” Yen demands. 

“It’s colorful. I look like Jaskier.”

“I hope you know I take offense to that.” Jaskier interjects, but both of them wave him off. 

“Navy blue is not colorful.” Yen argues. 

Geralt stares at her flatly. 

“If I let you wear black and silver then you have to let me change your hair color. Just temporarily.”

She is met with that same blank stare. 

“I think dark hair would suit you,” Yen defends, “Eye color then.”

“No.”

“For fuck’s sake Geralt,” Jaskier sighs, “It’s a masquerade. The whole point is that people have to guess who you are.”

“Yet you’re clothed head to toe in green and blue. Everyone will know you in a minute,” Geralt points out, “Why am I even going to this party?”

“I don’t need to be as anonymous. I’m a performer. And as I have said multiple times, you have to come with me because it is a wedding, and I slept with the bride many years ago. And I have a sneaking suspicion that she’s going to try to sleep with me to get out of this marriage. I refuse to start a war,” Jaskier finishes, and turns to look at himself in the mirror, “not again.”

He can see the way Yen’s face crinkles in the reflection of the mirror. He loves saying things like that, and watching her do the mental acrobatics to figure out whether or not he’s joking. Yen just shakes her head, and returns her attention to Geralt.

“If you show up in silver and black, without any other changes, everyone will know you to be The White Wolf.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Believe it or not Geralt, there aren’t that many men out there built like they are carved from rock. Let alone carved from rock with white hair, and gold eyes.” Yen insists.

“No color.” Geralt says.

Yen looks like she’s having an aneurysm. 

*

The wedding feast is elaborate as expected from a royal court. Tables stretch for miles across the hall. They are piled high with meat, bread, cheese, wine, and numerous other treats they are too far away to see.

A group of minstrels are already playing when they enter, and Jaskier takes minor offense to that. He was under the impression that he was the only entertainment for the night. Still he can rise above it.

A young woman approaches Yen almost as soon as they approach the tables. She gives Yen a small, shy smile, and curtsies low to her. Yen kisses the young woman’s knuckles, then gives Jaskier and Geralt a small finger wave. Then she disappears into the crowd with her new prize.

“Hope you don’t have money riding on how many people you can fuck.” Geralt murmurs into Jaskier’s ear.

Jaskier just smirks at him, “Hardly. I have left my wild ways behind. I believe I only enjoy fucking one man now.”

Geralt shivers slightly, and opens his mouth to say something, but they are rudely interrupted by a courtier. The man is probably in his late fifties, with a slight beer belly, and a warm smile. He clasps Geralt’s forearm.

“Witcher! It is good to see you!” he says brightly.

Geralt glances at Jaskier then. He was the one to insist Geralt remain anonymous, so Jaskier figures that Geralt expects him to cover for the fact he’s already been discovered.

“I told you the enchantment worked, Pasha!”

“What?” Geralt and the courtier ask in unison.

“Oh. I do apologize. I forgot that we were meant to remain anonymous,” Jaskier says, “My dear friend was concerned that his looks were to recognizable even with a mask. So we asked a sorceress friend of ours to give him an enchantment to look like the famous White wolf of legend.”

“Oh.” The courtier says, dazed, “My apologies for the mistake.” he pauses and then leans in close to Jaskier so he can ask quietly, “Are his looks really that memorable.”

“I am afraid so,” Jaskier responds solemnly, “He has a unibrow, you see, and he’s missing half his teeth.”

He takes great satisfaction in the annoyed grunt Geralt makes behind him. Just then, Yennefer arrives at Jaskier’s shoulder, as if sensing trouble.

“He has three nipples, and only one testicle.” she adds helpfully.

“... as in one of his testicles are missing?” the courtier asks, looking faintly ill.

Jaskier grimaces at the courtier, and shakes his head, “He was born with one large one. It was mutation of some kind.”

The courtier nods, and smiles vaguely in Geralt’s direction. Then he turns, and heads straight for one of the pitchers of wine.

“Really?”’ Geralt asks, annoyance apparent in his tone.

“I offered to change your hair.” Yennefer says, before drifting back into the crowd.

“Consider it payback for Pavetta’s wedding party.” Jaskier says smugly, and then moves off to perform his set.

The plan works in its own way. Not one person believes Geralt is actually Geralt. (Thank the gods for courtiers and their love for gossip.) The plan to direct attention away from Geralt, however, backfires. Turns out when one describes something so upsetting, people are drawn to it like moths to a flame. For the rest of the party, everyone focuses on Geralt. They try to see through the ‘enchantment’, and speculate about what courtier lies underneath the Witcher veneer. Thankfully, it does distract the bride form making a move on Jaskier, and the night ends without a war between kingdoms.

They return back to Yen’s home after the party. Yen moves straight for her bed chamber, leaving Jaskier and Geralt to their own devices. 

Geralt rips the mask off his face, and stalks up to the bedchamber he and Jaskier share. Jaskier trails behind him at a more sedate pace. When he arrives at the room, Geralt has already stripped out of his jacket and shirt, leaving him in just his trousers.

“I’m missing half my teeth, and have a unibrow?” Geralt growls, and Jaskier shrugs.

“Don’t forget three nipples, and one large testicle.” Jaskier adds.

He approaches Geralt then, rubbing his hands up and down Geralt’s arms, “Did we wound your pride dear wolf?”

Geralt grunts, and turns away, working at the laces of his trousers. Jaskier has grown quiet adept at reading Geralt over their time together. That specific response means that his pride is, in fact, wounded.

“Oh Geralt,” Jaskier says quietly and circles around so that they are face to face again, “My beautiful Geralt,” he kisses Geralt gently on the lips.

“Fuck off Jaskier.” Geralt grumbles, still not making eye contact.

Jaskier smirks, “I see two normal lovely nipples,” he says and tweaks one between for finger and thumb, causing Geralt to shiver, “and a perfectly normal set of balls.” he says, and cups Geralt's balls through the opening of his trousers, drawing a low groan from Geralt.

Jaskier chuckles, and kisses Geralt again. It is hot, and deep, and lasting. Their mouths move together for long moments before they pull away to breathe. Geralt rests his forehead against Jaskier’s.

“Why don’t we go to the bed?” Jaskier suggests, and Geralt stumbles backwards until his knees hit the bed. He sits down heavily on the edge.

Jaskier approaches, reaching behind his head to undo the ribbons holding his mask in place.

“Leave it.” Geralt rumbles.

“Sorry?”

“Leave the mask on.” Geralt repeats.

That draws another chuckle from Jaskier, “Seems like Yen isn’t the only one who likes masks.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come Visit me on tumblr for more Witcher! https://thenerdyindividual.tumblr.com/


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